Foodie Rituals For Dining Out

September 08, 1985

Dining in a good restaurant is to a Foodie what a marvelous party is to a teenager, a big deal to a businessman, a great opera to a buff. Dozens of elements must play their parts faultlessly or the Foodie`s hopes will be dashed.

The Foodie enters into a higher state when going into a restaurant. The level of response from his nose, tongue and teeth is raised, so that encountering a scented deodorizer in the restaurant`s lavatory, for instance, is like being mugged. It is noticeable that Foodies` tolerance of caffeine is much lower than normal people`s. Normal people can drink coffee at night, but you Foodies dare not expose your sensitive blood to it after 3 in the afternoon and must ask for decaffeinated (made from beans, of course--not instant) after dinner.

As you sit in the restaurant, you do not resent the other people you see there--though they are ordering all the wrong things and not paying attention to the food; you know that a restaurant needs business, even if it`s from swinishly gross palates.

If it is a three-star restaurant, you have put aside enough money to cover the most expensive meal, you have probably traveled several thousand miles, and here you are, at the shrine, palpitatingly eager, childishly vulnerable to disappointments or slights. Do not worry. The waiters spotted you as a Foodie as soon as you walked in. You had that air of expectancy. You treated them with the respect due to their noble profession. To you they are not minions, but men who can get dozens of people`s different food onto their tables at its moment of perfection and a succession of different wines into their glasses at the correct temperature, meanwhile dressing and redressing the table unobtrusively--all the little services to eating that you try at home and know are fiendishly difficult.

But if you have come a long way to a three-star restaurant, you are secretly hoping for some special mark of favor. And most Foodie pilgrims are welcomed at the shrine. Either the head waiter spots you, or, more likely, the proprietor was alerted, when you made reservations, by such phrases in your letter as ``Dr. Z of Chicago asked to be remembered to you.`` They do not remember Dr. Z from Adam, but the keen-bean tone of your letter warned them that another Foodie approaches. They can even recognize you on the phone--the punctilio, the emotion. A Foodie making a reservation at a restaurant is the nearest thing to a sex call.

When you appear in person, they make you a free aperitif or digestif

(``offert`` it says on the bill), or a tiny extra course you did not order, or an invitation to visit the kitchens. At the Troisgros, in Roanne, France, at least three tables of Foodies have to be shown round the kitchens at every meal. But the restaurants are tolerant of the fans. They need a knowledgeable audience. It is not generally recognized that cooking is like acting--the chef has to feel up to the performance, he has to hear rumors of applause through the swing doors--a waiter reports that the people at Table 9 are overjoyed by the ecrevisses, a plate comes back that has been polished to a shine by bread. A great chef is quite capable of marching into the dining room and asking why you hardly touched a dish. Of course, Foodies have already sent a humble explanation via the waiter.

Numbers: Two or four. Six is the maximum. Six has the advantage of only one possible placement for three couples--Foodies don`t want to have to bother their heads with social niceties--but the disadvantage that none of the six can reach all the other five plates with a questing fork.

Aperitifs: The only spirit you can`t resist is a dry martini cocktail, but it would be inappropriate to drink gin before a serious meal. You like to order the aperitif de la maison--usually a Kir Royale (cassis and champagne)

or something with framboise or myrtille. Or champagne by itself.

Water: You don`t want iced tap water as in America--Foodies travel such a lot they got used to mineral water. Some like Perrier, others consider its bubbles vulgarly big and prefer the discreet bubbles of Badoit. (Foodie children all prefer the Perrier big bubbles and some call the other ``bad water.``)

Rolls and bread: Yes. You believe the bread of the country is an essential element of most cuisines. You take the brown, black or local roll and reject French bread in England.

Butter: Unsalted, of course.

Amuse gueule (gullet-tickler): At a three-star restaurant you are keen to see what tiny tidbit will be given you first--usually a taste of the region: a weeny onion tart (Georges Blanc), a slice of saucisson de Lyon in brioche

(Bocuse) or a mouthful of Welsh rarebit Gruyere (the Dorchester).

Time to order: Foodies get down right away to studying the menu. They do not waste the time of that noble person the waiter with a casual ``We`re not ready, could you come back?``